


Cracks In The Crystal Ball

by Emiko_Kiichigo101



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, Maccadams, megop - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-01-23 07:33:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21316504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emiko_Kiichigo101/pseuds/Emiko_Kiichigo101
Summary: Just a simple MegOp I through together for MegOp week on Tumblr.  Still debating if I want to continue the story or not, because after posting this to both my Tumblr, Deviantart, and Fanfiction account I still haven't received a review for it.  So I'll give it one more go on this forum, but if I don't get any general response I just might scrap it so I can focus on my main story, which by the way, this one has nothing to do with MERCY.  It's set in the timeline when Optimus gives up the Matrix of Leadership, losses his memory and becomes Orion Pax, then boards the Nemesis and is tricked into becoming a Decepticon.  I know what your thinking, this story has been done and over used, but I had a neat idea for the drones that I wanted to try out and see if it could catch on.Let me know what y'all think in the comments and don't forget to take a look at MERCY if you haven't.  More chapters to come in the future.
Relationships: Megatron/Orion Pax
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Cracks in the Crystal Ball **

Not a single drone on the Nemesis was happy with the knowledge of Optimus Prime was residing on the warship. It didn’t matter to them at all that he had no recollection of his most recent memories, to the Decepticon troops he was still very much the enemy. He was the leader of the team that had brutally murdered and maimed thousands of their kind, and he was being treated like an honored guest. It angered them beyond belief and there was so much they wanted to do about it, but their master forbade anyone from going near the Prime without his permission.

For one group of Vehicons the craving for vengeance was too strong. Someone needed to pay. Optimus needed to pay, so they gathered together one night and devised a plan. In an empty storeroom believed to have no surveillance, they gathered around a turned over crate. Two of the six had items they needed to carry out their scheme. One held two serving cubes of different colors, blue and violet. The other grounder held a vile of a contaminated substance, and a very dangerous one at that. It was a miracle he was able to slip out of the med-bay without being noticed by any of the higher officers. His spark was still racing so much it made his servos unsteady. There was a sharp collective gasp before a heavy sigh of relief when the shaky Vehicon dropped the vile, but fortunately his partner was close by and he caught the glass tube before it could shatter.

“Careful Punchki!” The grounder across from him shouted. “That rusting agent is very potent! One drop could rust your servo off!”

“Lay off him Clemente!” The drone now holding the vile chimed in for his friend. “Poor Punchki is stressed out enough as it is. Getting a hold of this stuff was not easy.”

“I’m not denying that,” the Vehicon addressed as Clemente retorted, “but I think it’s safe to say we are all stressed at the moment, and I’m sure the last thing we need is to endure a sudden outbreak.”

“Then feel free to hold the vile yourself,” Punchki stated when he got a hold of his own wit, “seeing how you are so inclined to show us how it’s done.”

Clemente scoffed at his shorter counterpart, encouraging Punchki’s partner to move closer to him in a protective manner. However, everyone’s attention was brought back to the task at hand when a fourth drone set the empty cubes on the makeshift table, then took the vile to open it.

“Enough squabbling,” he subtly boasted as he carefully dipped a glass stirrer into the rusting agent, “the Autobot’s ration round is drawing near. If we’re still going to do this, we need to do it now.”

“Careful Alex…” The drone behind him said in a worried tone. “Do you need any help?”

“Thank you, Zachery, but I’m fine.” Alex replied but didn’t object to his friend taking the vile from him when he was finished with it. With his free servo, Alex took the blue cube and with the stirrer he swabbed the inner rim of the glass. Again, Clemente scoffed as he watched the delicate procedure, then crossed his arms.

“I still don’t see why we don’t just dump the whole thing in. It’s more than what he deserves anyway.”

“If we did that then the chemical reaction would turn the energon red.” The self-appointed leader of their group answered in half interest as he concentrated on his task. “I’m almost certain that even with his trusting nature, the great_ ‘Orion Pax’_ would find such discoloration to be suspicious. This is just the right amount to get the job done.”

“Remind me again why there’s a second glass?” One of the Vehicons that had yet to be named wondered.

There was one reason and one reason only in the depths of Alex’s mind and spark, but he could not say it aloud. His reasoning was purely cold, deceiving, and above all else purely selfish. The second glass was just an excuse to stay in the room, and refuel with the Prime… Because he wanted to watch. He wanted to be present and witness the end of his enemy, and see the light slowly snuff out in Optimus’s optics as he choked on his disintegrating insides. Alex wanted his vengeance so badly, and he was not going to pass up the opportunity to seize it. Not when the Prime almost literally landed in his lap.

“It’s my way in.” He half told the truth. “I’m relying on his said trusting nature to allow me inside and share my refueling time with him. This way I can make sure he drinks the toxin without any unexpected incidents.”

“It’s also dangerous.” Clemente added as he filled the glasses with energon. “If you are caught as the last mech in the room with him, you will be deactivated by Megatron himself for sure.”

“I’ve taken care of that.” Punchki announced. “I managed to cut the surveillance on a timed black out. You will only have five minutes, however. It was the best I could do without being detected myself.”

“You did very well Punchki.” Alex said while lifting the tray and turning to face the door. “Thank you.”

“Alex…!” The grounder next to him reached out to graze the side of his shoulder plating. “Please… Reconsider doing this alone. Let one or two of us escort you to the room. We can pretend we are guarding the main energon storage space.”

“Dave… Don’t worry about me. Just…” He paused and enjoyed the caressing feeling of the servo on his metal. It may be the last time he felt such warmth ever again after all. “Just keep an optic on Salem for me until I get back… Okay?”

He then walked away before anyone else could say anything and try to stop him again. He needed to be quick or they would try harder to talk him out of this plan, but Alex just did not care about the risks. He knew there was a high risk of being killed, and it didn’t matter as long as it meant someone would pay for everything. The suffering of his brethren had gone on for too long, and for what happened to his mate would not go unpunished. Alex was going to see to it that Optimus Prime suffered as Salem had suffered. No one knew how the Miner drone was injured so badly with such awful burn marks to his faceplate and neck-cables, they just knew it happened during an ambush. Poor Salem has never described which Bot was his attacker, not only because his vocals were fried, but he was so traumatized he refused to speak of it all.

“I will help you find peace my love.” Alex whispered to himself when he was alone in the halls. “The Autobots will not get away with this injustice… This I promise.”

* * *

Alex made it down the halls to the main storage area without incident. There were no guards standing in front of the main doors as expected around this time of day. This was the only time when the troops would change stations during a longer period of time, because they would need to get their rations before returning to their post. This was the grounder’s final and only chance, but he still shivered nervously as he approached his last turn off. It was the moment of truth, as soon as he passed the storage room he would be at the doors of the well treated prisoner. He just needed to repeat to himself that everything was going according to plan. No one had been caught so far, and he was making great time. It was almost done, and his eagerness was beginning take hold of his fear. Alex was going to finally go through with it, and if fate was kind, he would get away with it scot free. That was what he believed right up to the point he turned that final corner, and nearly ran right into his master.

“Oh no…” He whispered hoping Megatron didn’t hear him. Again fate was not going to be kind.

“Pardon?” The taller mech questioned rather as calm, but that’s how almost all conversations with the tyrant started out with. Before he finally lost his temper.

“Oh… Oh no… Time!” Alex blurted out, his servos shaking and jittering the tray. “No time to stop I’m afraid… Forgive me my Lord but I’m running late for my rounds and I can’t stop to talk. Excuse me.”

“Please take some time.” Megatron stepped in front of the drone when he tried to walk around him. “I was hoping to run into whomever was bringing Orion his rations. I wish to bring his rations to him myself.” He stared at his servant and noticed the way he was trembling. The next thing he noticed was the second glass on the tray. “Why do you have two cubes with you?”

“Um… Well… Like I said before Lord Megatron, I’m running late. I decided to grab my rations as well. I didn’t think the Prime would mind if I shared my ration time with him.”

“I see…” The silver mech pondered as he reached out to take hold of the tray. His much larger and clawed servos nearly covered the entirety of the platter and partially grazed over Alex’s digits. “Give me your designation serial number and I will reimburse your ration tokens.”

“That’s not necessary.” Alex quivered and did his best not to pull on the serving tray. “You are far busier than I, my Lord… I don’t mind—.”

“Let go of the energon, Vehicon.” Megatron grunted sternly. “You are trying my patience.”

“I…” It was a good thing Alex was wearing his visor since his optics began to fill with fluids. This wasn’t happening. For a brief moment the quivering drone flat out denied what was happening in front of him, and because he had stopped paying attention he didn’t notice when he lost his grip on the platter. Not until it was slipped from his digits, and as Megatron turned away from him, he immediately panicked. Alex had no time to properly think and all he could think of was sloppily covering up his own tracks.

“The blue cube!” He shouted in a wavered tone. “Please make sure the Prime drinks from the blue cube!”

“Why is that important?” The warlord’s growl deepened, and time appeared to stand still for the grounder. Enough time finally passed before Megatron’s lack of patience reminded Alex of his own status. “Speak up drone! Less you wish for my discipline!”

“Sweet minerals!” This confession was so out of nowhere that even Megatron needed a moment to think. Was this his reason? Or was it just his reaction from shock? Alex could see the bewilderment on his master’s faceplate, and he knew it was his chance to properly lie. “I had a small vial of sweet minerals with me when I filled the glasses. Sometimes when drones bring him his rations, he doesn’t drink it right away. More often than not, when we return to take his cube, it’s still full. I thought this would be a good incentive to convince him to refuel properly. We… We need to keep him functioning for a while longer after all, do we not?”

Megatron pondered this for a while and Alex held his intakes in prayer. Condensation streaked down his metal from the stress, but to his tranquil relief, the giant before him bought his explanation. “I’ll be sure he knows of your… Surprisingly kind gesture, and for your efforts I shall reward you with double ration tokens, but I still need your designation number.”

“Uh…” Alex knew he shouldn’t keep him waiting any longer, but he couldn’t give the tyrant his name. If anything went wrong (or worse than it already has) then Megatron would rip his body apart and hang his helm in Main bridge as an example to the rest of his comrades. The only good thing about being a drone with the same framework as everyone else is that they could occasionally use someone else’s serial number. And Alex knew just the Vehicon he could impersonate. “S-Steve, my Liege… My designation is ST-3V3, or Steve.”

“Very well Steve.” Megaton turned his back on his troop and opened the doors to the makeshift holding cell. “See yourself to the rest of your duties and your tokens will be sent to your personal account later tonight.”

The exact minute the doors closed behind his master, Alex spun on his heels and dashed in the opposite direction. He didn’t stop until the churning in his tanks took over his functions and stopped to purge against a wall. Whatever happened from that point on was out of his servos now, and he was either going to kill the Prime as he had planned, or accidently kill the leader of the Decepticon army. Once he had stopped vomiting, and took the time to think clearly on the possibilities… Alex concluded that either way, it was a win-win.

* * *

“Orion?” Megatron addressed the Bot in the corner as he set the tray of energon on a table opposite a crudely made up berth. The Bot’s back faced him and the luminescent light of the holoscreens illuminated the red and blue frame in an almost ominous silhouette. “I have your rations. Orion?”

The silhouette didn’t respond in anyway, or even physically move in any sign of function. Megatron was worried by this display at first, but then he moved close enough to see one side of Optimus, or rather Orion’s faceplate. The look of pure concentration, and determined focus was the entirety of his expression. It was a look Megatron had nearly forgotten and it compelled him into his own trance of admiration. He would never admit it out loud, but he actually missed that look of innocence. The way Orion seemed to lose himself in his own world and processed the data in front of him like it was his whole universe. Slowly piecing together all the forms of information like fragments of a puzzle that needed to be placed back together with care.

“Some things never change…” The larger mech whispered and slightly jolted when he was given a response.

“If they did, you would be the first to know… Compared to my knowledge any way.” Orion smiled, but did not look away from the screens. He was on a roll and didn’t want to be distracted.

“Even knowledge needs fuel to be pursued continually.” Megatron went back to the table and picked up one of the cubes then swirled it in the air. “Come now my friend. Have your rations with me today.”

“In a minute Megatronus.” The Bot hardly noticed his informalities, but his mind was still exploring the world it created. “I think I found something important, but I need time to process it properly.” Orion briefly heard the sound of the cube being set aside but didn’t hear anything else afterward. He was on the verge of once again becoming lost in his work when he thought he might be alone. He didn’t hear his new leader say anything, nor did he hear him leave. But it was confirmed Megatron was still behind him when the red and blue mech felt large silver hands caress his chest from under his arms. They wrapped around his chassis and pulled him back against a broad frame behind him.

Orion sighed and surrendered to the warm embrace, feeling the large mech’s hold tightened when listing his frame back. “Have I been gone that long?” There was no reply. Just the delightful tingle of hot exhaust rolling past his cold neck cables. Further and further he sank into Megatron’s hold and waited for him to speak. There was still no reply, and Orion knew his friend was upset. “I am here now Megatronus... All will be well soon. I promise.”

“It really is you…” The larger mech whispered while grazing his dermas over the back of Orion’s audio, enjoying the way he shuddered in response. “You have been here in my grace for merely a week and for a time I thought it was all a flux… But you are really here.”

“Is that why you are holding me like a lost youngling?” Orion smiled and laced his digits with the servo that was gradually slipping down his torso. “I’m not going to disappear.”

“You have no guarantee of that.” Megatron squeezed the hold on his servo, and gently nibbled the audio he was whispering to. The sweet Bot nearly melted in his arms, and he gently moaned from such attention. “Mmm… Maybe you’re right… We can refuel a little later…”

“Is that what this is then? You’re… Ah! Y-You’re holding me hostage in your embrace until I concede to drinking energon with you?”

“That was the original plan.” The warlord swirled his glossa over the audio receptor and hummed in delight as Orion’s frame pushed back against his. “I’m comfortable where I am now… But if you changed your mind… We can always pick up where we left off.”

“Uhn…” The shivering grew stronger, but Orion was not completely lost in his lust yet. “Then best to do it now… I have been thoroughly distracted from my work now.”

Megatron chuckled and kissed the side of his captive’s helm before releasing him. Orion stood suspended in place for a minute as he did his best to suppress the clicking of his cooling fans, but once he had his wits about him, he followed his leader to the table. He did his best to ignore the wide smirk staring at him, but his blush made his hidden arousal too obvious.

“Here, this one is yours.” The silver mech held up the blue cube and chortled under his breath. “The drone that poured it for you said he added some sweet minerals to it, since you have been working so hard for us.”

“Oh, not that I don’t appreciate the gesture, but I’ve never really enjoyed the texture of sweet mineral.” Orion sighed sadly. He worried he may have been insulting his rescuers, but Megatron just nodded his helm.

“That’s right, I’m sorry I had forgotten.” He reached for the violet cube and pulled back the other. “It’s been a few million years for me after all.”

The grounder chuckled and took the new cube offered to him. “Would you like to propose a toast, my Lord?”

“Mmm…” Megatron needed to restrain his engines from rumbling in desire. Nothing was more arousing than the sound of Optimus Prime calling him _my Lord_. Still, he raised the blue cube and muttered his accolade. “To the future… And the old friends that build it.”

“To the future…” The Bot whispered almost seductively. They never broke optic contact as they clinked their glasses together, but as soon as they sipped on the energon, they immediately knew something was wrong. Orion’s face twisted but he swallowed the mouthful anyway. “Oh my… I think there was a mix up. This is the glass with the sweet mineral.”

“This…” Megatron heaved, frightening the other mech into a stance. “This cube… Something is… Wrong… _Hack!_ "

He dropped the cube and the glass shattered at his pedes. He fell to his knee-joints coughing and choking on his intakes that began to fill with cycled energon. His blood pooled beneath him with a splatter and his body convulsed violently. If he was aware of anything other than the pain, Megatron would have noticed the red tint in the thick liquid he was vomiting. Orion didn’t even seem to notice. He was too occupied with turning the giant onto his side and trying to contact a higher officer for help.

“Officer Knockout! Do you copy?! I need emergency assistance in my quarters now!” He tried the doctor first with no success, so he switched his comm links to Soundwave, but oddly enough the communications officer appeared out of nowhere. Orion decided not to question his rapid appearance and didn’t even waste time explaining how this had happened. “Help me get him to the med-bay!”

Both of the mech’s took one arm and pulled the sick flier to his pedes. Megatron apparently had enough coherency to feel the floor beneath him and did his best to assist his caretakers. He could not speak, and every breath felt like it was igniting his insides, but Megatron refused to lose consciousness yet. Not in front of Orion.

“Hold on Megatronus…” Orion caressed his free servo under Megatron’s jawline. The warlord was hardly aware of his surroundings any longer, but the feeling was comforting, nonetheless. “I’m here… I will take care of you my friend… My love…”

**-To be continued?-**


	2. Cracks In The Crystal Ball Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron is ill and Orion is struggling with finding his place in a world unfamiliar to him. Meanwhile, the drones are dealing with struggles of their own hangs on to his function by a thread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me an entire year to make an update, and I'm sorry this chapter is a little rushed, but I got it done. There maybe more to come, but don't hold your breathe. My main focus will always be on MERCY, and there is a chance of another chapter update for the TFA fic I've been playing with.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don’t own any stocks, trades, or licensing from the Transformers franchise. All rights are reserved for HASBRO entertainment.

**Cracks in the Crystal Ball**

Part 2

Orion hated waiting in the medical ward. He despised the smell of over sterilization, the repeated beeping of medical machinery that could go off at any minute, and the dim fluorescent lighting that encouraged the shadows in the room to grow to unpredictable proportions. He remained there however, holding onto his friend’s servo as if it was the ill mech’s sole lifeline. The semi stroked the back of the large silver hand in tandem to Megatron’s shallow intakes and did his best not to upset himself more than he already was. The worst part was the feeling of utter helplessness. Knowing that someone he cared about so much was in abundant pain, but there was nothing he could do about it but sit there and hold their servo.

Yet, that is exactly what the younger mech did and he clung to Megatron’s hand as if it was both their lifelines. The large silver flier looked frightful under all of the doctors cables and equipment, especially the tubing snaking into his oral cavity. There were two of them; one to help the warlord cycle air, and the other to clear his vents of rust or liquid. There was plenty of it left over in his throat and intakes which encouraged the occasional cough. Every time Megatron choked on his breath Orion would jolt and grasp the clawed digits tighter. Clawed digits, he wondered when Megatron’s breath would settle. They were once round, the semi remembered, through what little memory he still had. As a gladiator, he had attachable claws that he would remove upon visiting the little archivist, but now they were permanently refined.

“This war has aged you terribly, my love.” Orion whispered while locking his digits with Megatron’s. Glancing over his new armor plating (or at least it was new to him) he laughed at himself. “As it has for me. It is so strange that I have changed so much… In the shutter of an optic no less. My armor, my alt mode, even my voice is not the same.”

A squeeze to his digits alerted Orion’s attention back to the present. Megatron’s optics were open and gazing at his caretaker with what little affection he could reflect.

“Megatronus…!” The red and blue mech smiled brightly and before even he knew it Orion was on his pedes. He kissed the ill flier above his brow before gently resting his helm beside Megatron’s. “Oh my friend. You’ve given me such a fright…”

“Mmm…” The larger mech tried to speak, but for obvious reasons he couldn’t get a word in even if he wanted to. A warm servo placed over Megatron’s chassis gently eased him back into settling over the berth. “Shhh… Try not to move…” Orion’s voice gently soothed the giant into a calm rest. “I’m going to go get Knockout and tell him you’re awake. When I get back with him, we will explain what happened together. I will only be a moment.”

He pecked Megatron one last time on his brow and slowly backed away. Orion only made it to the door before he was stopped by the terrible gagging noises behind him. He spun around in haste, shocked to see the sick mech pulling the tubing from his intakes.

“What are you doing?!” Orion ran back to Megatron’s side in horror and did his best to be careful of the remaining wires and IVs. He braced his servos over his friend’s shoulders, but he was virtually powerless in trying to stop the foolish mech. He worried if he tried, he would do more damage than good. The only thing the shorter mech could do was beg. “Please! Please stop! You’ll hurt yourself!”

What seemed like forever, Orion listened to the blood curdling coughs and struggles of Megatron’s attempts to remove the tubes. Oral lubricants and small amounts of cycled energon splattered over the silver mech’s chassis. It was such an appalling display that Orion couldn’t bear to look, so he tightly shuttered his optics while sinking his helm into the side of Megatron’s chest plating. The semi’s servos tightened every time the frame beneath him shuddered violently and the echoes of choking grew louder from every slow pull of the medical equipment. He swore in his mind he would never let Megatron go for even a second, fearing that his friend would disappear in front of him if he loosened his grip at all.

Finally, Megatron reached the end of the tubing and everything in the room just ceased with the exception of Orion. The red and blue mech shivered, unaware that the berth stopped quaking. His optics flew open when a large servo caressed him around his hips, and he glanced up just in time to see the giant wiping his dermas clean with his other free servo.

“Ngh…” Megatron grunted as he tried to speak, but only coughed from the soreness in his throat. “Ne—Hack! Never… Change—Cough!”

“Don’t speak!” Tears collected in Orion’s optics. “Just rest my love! Please, I—!”

The servo used to clean Megatron’s lip-plates gently slipped around the smaller mech’s faceplate. The thumb grazed Orion’s chin just below his bottom derma. This action was just the trick to calm the worried archivist and gain the attention Megatron was seeking from him. A few more deep breaths on hitched intakes and the warlord found a way to express what needed to be said.

“This… Has never… Changed…” A kiss slid over the trembling dermas, and despite the light taste of cycled energon it was tender and warm.

“Megatronus…” Orion whispered, his fears subsiding for a sweet moment. “Are you not in any pain…?”

“By far… Your touch is… The greatest relief…” The gravel in Megatron’s vocals was much heavier than usual and sounded just dreadful. His words were meant to be consoling, but Orion wasn’t concerned for himself, he wanted to comfort his friend. His love.

“Then hold me tight…” The semi whimpered through gentle pecks, continuing the affection that was asked of him. “Keep me close and I will provide all you need… All you want…”

“Have you been here the whole time…?”

“Yes and no… Forgive me, but there were times where I couldn’t bear to see you like this for too long.” Shamefully Orion dipped his helm, but the light touches to his faceplate continued in a rather lucid manner. “Sometimes I would go back to the room you gave me, and continue my work… I feel awful for leaving you here every time, but I—.”

“You have no need to apologize…” The flier groaned while he pulled the lithe bot closer to him and laced their digits together into a loving hand hold. “You have done more than was needed. I don’t think I would have recovered so quickly without you being near…”

“I am amazed that you are recovering so quickly, but I doubt I had much to do with it.” Orion didn’t even notice how tight his grip was on Megatron’s metal until his servos began to ache. The light tingling pain was a clear sign that he was finally beginning to feel relaxed, but the news he had to tell his lover wasn’t going to be easy. He took a deep intake and sighed for what he needed to say next. “Knockout says you were poisoned by a rusting agent. The reason you didn’t die was because your would-be assassin was careless and didn’t properly add enough solvent to be lethal. I… I am so sorry I didn’t take the glass you first offered me…”

“No… It’s not your fault my love.” Megatron said in assurance but was taken aback when Orion gasped lightly. “What is it?”

“Nothing… It’s just…” A bright blush crawled across Orion’s cheek-plating and he smiled sheepishly. “It is the first time I have heard you call me your love since I have returned to you.”

Sharp teeth exposed themselves upon Megatron’s slow creeping smirk. He looked down at the smaller bot like a predator toying with its hunt. “A mistake I plan to rectify in abundance… My love.”

He kissed the Prime in his arms as he did before and intended to deepen the loving action. Orion was willing to allow it to happen, but he ended up twisting his face and pulling away. The taste of vile was much stronger when their glossas tried to circle each other.

“Mm…” The semi regretfully grimaced. “Maybe we can continue this… When Knockout excuses you and… you clean up a little?”

“Perhaps you are right…” Megatron chuckled, a little embarrassed. “You should go back to the consul room, and for my piece of mind, call me back on a private comm link. I will send you the connection when you leave the med-bay door. And until I straighten out this mess with the assassination attempt, please don’t except any energon from the drones. Only take it from the higher officers or me.”

“No need to worry of that.” Orion nodded. “Soundwave has actually brought me my own storage cube of energon. I have been self-serving my rations since then. Though honestly, I have not been properly refueling. I could not stop worrying about you…”

“Go back now and refuel properly…” It wasn’t meant to sound like an order, but the Decepticon leader was upset that such a smart mech would be so careless with his health. “Wait for me there, and upon my recovery… I will be there to hold you once more and—.”

“Megatronus?” The grounder didn’t mean to interrupt, he was sure Megatron was getting to something good after all. But as he gazed into his lover’s optics, he noticed something unsettling. “Your irises… They’re violet!”

“Huh?” The warlord quirked his optic ridges, unsure what his little caretaker meant. It occurred to him that he never mentioned he had consumed dark energon. Perhaps Megatron just assumed he already knew from reading the archives they provided for the Prime, but a lot of them had been doctored by Soundwave to fit the fabrications he was told. He thought the energon may have been mentioned, but there was a chance his third in command found it unimportant. The nail on the head now was what to do about it now that it was out in the open. Should he tell his young prisoner the truth? Would it matter? “Well…”

“Nothing to worry about.” Breakdown appeared just in time to intervene, his first intent to check on Megatron’s wellbeing after alarms rang in his quarters. He was a little surprised to find the Prime so close to his archenemy, but from the rumors he heard around the ship it was to be expected.

The large blue mech seemed to have away with the memory challenged Autobot, so with a warm smile he gently patted his wide servo over Orion’s back. “It’s just a reaction to the medication we used to help counteract the effects of the poison. It will discolor his energon for a while too. See?”

A large digit pointed to the small pools of cycled energon that was still collected at the base of Megatron’s chassis. They were beginning to dry and congeal over his metal, and as pointed out, colored violet. The former wrecker’s kindness helped put the semi’s tired mind at ease and he sighed in satisfaction.

“This isn’t going to affect his health long term?” Orion asked as he reached for a cloth in his subspace. Breakdown smirked a moment while he watched the young mech fuss over the stains laced about his master’s midsection. He stifled himself immediately the second he made optic contact with the tyrant. Megatron glared at him out of Orion’s sight, a subtle way of reminding his subordinate of his place.

“_Ahem…_ No. It should pass with time. You might see his irises change color now and then, but other than that nothing to be concerned about.” Breakdown turned back to Megatron and bowed. “I have the results from your tox-screening here my Lord. I am here on Knockout’s behest to reveal it to you.”

“Where is my CMO?” The warlord questioned. The tone of his vocals, though rough, were even with understanding.

“He is feeling ill Lord Megatron but is well enough to be present if you require him.”

“No, the medic deserves time to rest when needed.” An honest reply, but unexpected to hear it from Megatron. “My results, Breakdown?”

“Yes sir.” Breakdown stepped over to the computer beside the medical berth and tapped away on the keyboard, until the holoscreen flashed with an image of Megatron’s frame. Knockout must have taken into account that Orion would still be in the room because there was no mention of dark energon in the notes on the side of the profile. “As you can see my Lord, the toxin was confirmed to be a rusting agent. Fortunately, there was not enough added to the glass to be function threatening. In fact, if you’re not feeling any discomfort, you may be discharged from the med-bay today. I just need to run one more tox-screen to make sure the poison has completely cycled out of your systems.”

“I’m amazed how quickly it seems to be out of his systems already.” Orion shifted back onto his pedes. He was about to put his cloth back into his subspace, but Megatron took hold of it. In turn he passed it off to Breakdown, then returned to holding hands with his little caretaker. They both returned to mildly adorning each other and Orion felt a little silly being so easily distracted, but the warm look in Megatron’s optics was worth it.

“Lord Megatron has always been a fast healer.” The medical assistant commented and threw the handkerchief in the incinerator. “But you may have the greatest impact on his recovery of all.”

“Truly a healing touch…” Megatron growled and kissed Orion between his optics. “But perhaps you should go now though. I will have Breakdown examine me and when I am dismissed… I will come to you.”

“As you wish… Lord Megatron.” The red and blue semi whispered into Megatron’s audio, remembering the look on his face the first time he called his lover _‘Lord’_. Orion left the room with a satisfied smirk, still hearing the stifled whirling over the giant mech’s air vents.

Breakdown spun around and began to pick up the tubing on the floor. He needed to face away from his master, because he couldn’t control the rise of laughter in his tanks. When Megatron said his name to get his attention, the former Wrecker nearly jumped out of his armor, thinking he was caught insulting the tyrant.

“Breakdown, bring me a glass of coolant with a few drops of oil in it.” Megatron finally stood up onto his pedes and tore off the rest of the equipment and wires he was attached to. He bled from a few places on his arms, but it didn’t seem to faze him. His current servant in the room did as he was commanded and retrieved the coolant mix. Breakdown always had a vile of oil mixtures in his back cabinet, set and ready for quick remedies for the troops. Megatron watched him pour the glass while he stretched and circled his forearms. The bleeding stopped immediately after he did so, the wonders of dark energon once again taking effect and healing him in record time.

“My lord.” Breakdown bowed as he presented the cube. Megatron took it with an air of grace and sipped on it slowly. He glanced at the blue mech and watched him toil with everything that was thrown carelessly on the floor. The warlord never bothered with the troubles of his troops unless they somehow affected him. However the disheartened look in Breakdown’s single optic peeked the flier’s curiosity.

“How long has Knockout been feeling unwell?” He asked calmly and surprising his soldier up right.

“Not long my Liege, and he is… Fine. Just having tank pains.” The subject clearly made Breakdown uncomfortable. Why it made the grounder uncomfortable Megatron didn’t understand but decided not to pry. Or he just didn’t care to. “He is well enough to attend to you if you need him. Shall I call him?”

“No need.” The silver giant handed the cube back to Breakdown, his intakes and vocalizer now properly lubricated and soothed over. “Just make sure he gets as much rest as possible. We rely upon him after all.”

An honest statement, but it was just amazing to hear it come from Megatron. It was the closest he ever came to complement anyone without them bending over backwards to impress him. Breakdown’s audios were actually ringing for a moment.

“Y-Yes my Lord. He should be fine within a day or two.” Everything was picked up and neat when Breakdown turned to face his master. “May I examine you before I discharge you sir?”

“No, I have things I must take care of… Starting with finding that drone that dared an assassination attempt against the Prime behind my back!”

Megatron’s anger was always expressive and, in this case, it was no different. It was a good thing Breakdown took away that cube, otherwise the angry mech in front of him would have thrown it right into the holoscreen next to him. Instead he slammed his fist against the berth and permanently dented it. Through gritted dental-plates the tyrant bit back his curse, but his words still dripped with venom. “The Prime is mine… To dispose of or keep otherwise! And for now, I very, very much want to keep him…!"

Thoughts of Knockout filled Breakdown’s thoughts and he was grateful his mate wasn’t in the room now. It was too dangerous for him to be in here with this wild, unpredictable mech. “Forgive my boldness Lord Megatron, but perhaps it would be best if you took a rest period for now. I can inform Soundwave to check surveillance around the time the energon was delivered, and you can… Keep the prisoner company?”

“I do not appreciate the familiar tone in your voice!” Megatron growled and shifted towards the bay doors. He hesitated in front of them, his demeanor slowly calming as he gave Breakdown’s proposal more thought. “But I will take you up on your offer. Inform Soundwave of his search, but not to bother casting a wider net. I know the drone’s designation. Tell him to find Vehicon drone ST-3V3. Find him and bring him to the barracks in the base of the ship.” He chortled in his throat as he planned the things he would do to the traitor when he got his claws on him. Such thoughts heated places in his frame and made him lick his dermas impatiently. “Keep him there until I have time to deal with him… I must… See to how Orion is… Settling in his surroundings again.”

“Yes Lord Megatron.” Breakdown bowed, doing his best to ignore his master’s light drooling. “May I ask you for one more thing, while I have your attention?”

“Make it quick…” A sharp growl informed the medical assistant that he was trying what little patience the tyrant had left.

“It is a matter of politics, so I was hoping you could see fit to set up a meeting for me and Knockout.” The one optic mech blushed a little. The motives behind his request making him feel excited in a way. “We have questions about the old laws, and the chance of looking them over… For the chance of changing them.”

“Hm…” An odd sound for the flier to make and Breakdown couldn’t decide what it actually meant. Was Megatron considering his request, or was he groaning in irritation? “Your loyalty and work has improved greatly, and there are somethings in our laws I wish to look over myself… Lest I become a hypocrite.”

“My Lord?” More questions, but they were followed by the answer he needed. The laws were going to be questioned and when the time came Breakdown and his mate could put in their concerns, and hopefully in the future, tell the truth.

“I shall set up a time for all of the officers to converse over this another time… A much, much later time.”

“Yes Lord Mega—.” The bay doors hissed closed before Breakdown could finish his sentence and Megatron was gone before he fully stood up from his second bow. The grounder shrugged and turned around to properly clean the room. He stopped to stare at the damaged berth and shuttered at the depth of the fist shaped dent. “Never thought I’d say this about an Autobot, much less for the Prime… But Primus speed kid.”

* * *

The Eradicon quarters were quiet and the air dropped heavy on everyone’s armor. The dorms for the drones were never really luxurious, but together they all created a small society for each other. They would have to find a way to get along with one another since in some rooms there would be three to four drones in one room. One very, very small room that wasn’t even designed for two drones. However, from such difficulties, friendships were forged and more often than not, friends became lovers. This made living situations easy when couples would share a sleeping space. What little the drones had was irrelevant, for they all had each other, and they all relied on their center of community, but today, what little sense of amalgamation was draining. One of their own had been wounded terribly and his health took a turn for the worse. The miner drone Simon whom, was attacked by the Autobot months ago, had fallen into a deep stasis. According to the double digits, he had a bad reaction to sedatives he was given for his pain. The truth was that the double digits really didn’t know what they were doing, and never properly cleaned his injuries and his faceplate and neck cables became infected.

A group of his friends sat outside of his dorm, offering what little support they could provide. Some stayed there for hours and others arrived right after their shifts, all just waiting for signs of life.

“There must be something we can do?” Punchki whispered from under the warm embrace of his mate’s wing struts, like so many others finding solace in their partner’s or friend’s love. The smaller grounder was no different and gently kissed his lover’s chassis for both their solace. “Has anyone even bothered asking Officer Knockout for help? Maybe we could trade something for his assistance?”

“We have nothing to offer that he would want my dearest.” The Eradicon caressing Punchki’s back sighed sadly. “Unless Simon is a battle sufficient drone, he can’t get the higher Officer’s medical assistance.” It broke the flier’s spark when his words only made things worse and his little grounder began to shiver against him. “Hey, shhhh… Don’t cry Punchki. Alex is in there right now with Simon. No matter what happens, he is not alone. He has his mate, and he has his friends. He is loved Punchki, please hold on to that.”

“It’s not just that…” How the Vehicon shook, doing all that he could to keep himself from crying, and be strong for his friends. “This could happen to any of us… To me… To you. It isn’t fair that we fight so hard for a war we didn’t even decide to fight for, and we can’t even get proper health care, rations, living conditions… Four million years David… What are we to do if we have to fight this war for another four million?”

“It is four million years I will guarantee I will never leave you alone in.” David held Punchki tighter to him. It was a wild promise to make, and although the grounder didn’t believe a word David said, it was still comforting to hear.

“You can’t promise that…” Punchki removed his mask and in turn, David slid back the bottom portion of his visor. Gently they kissed and clambered closer with sad smiles adorning their faces. “But go ahead… Go ahead and tell me lies. It is what we truly have after all. Our sweet lies.”

_“NOOOOOOOOOO!!”_ A blood curdling scream pierced the spark of every drone in the hall. It was a howling pain that everyone knew all too well. They either knew such pain from their own experience, or the torment of others. Every drone branched off into groups and held each other by their hand or embrace and began to mourn their loss. Punchki finally began to cry, feeling his grief for Alex and the loss of his lover… Everyone knew from his anguish, that Simon was gone.

**-END-**


End file.
